Three Very Angry Football Players
by missmarykat
Summary: Full Title: Three Very Angry, Very Big, Very Strong Football Players this is alternative ending to "Any Given Friday Night" and is Shawn Whump! this is my first attempt at whumpage, and I hope you enjoy


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from the work on this site. No copyright infringement is intended.

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This was bad. This was very, very rabbit-in-boiling-pot-fatal-attraction bad. Okay, so they didn't have a crazy-stalker trying to kill them, but they just got on the bad side of three very big, very strong football players. Three very angry, very big, very strong football players.

Oh yes, this was very, very bad.

Why did he leave that 'badge' in his locker? Oh Jules, why did you HAVE to give it now, you couldn't wait just a couple of days? No way was that staying at his house, of course he would bring it everywhere with him. But that's neither here nor there. This wasn't Juliet's fault, hell it wasn't either of their faults, but right now, there was a bigger problem to deal with. Well three to be exact.

Three very angry, very big, very strong football players.

Shawn had to do something, and quick. "Oh, I'm seeing through Vlad's eyes now. He invited you to go ATVing by the lake. You were drinking; there was a horrible accident where Vlad and Matt smashed into each other like two frozen Christmas hams."

Drew cut in, "Vlad wasn't wearing his helmet, hit his head on a rock and by the time we got there he was de-"

"Shut up Drew," Matt was getting impatient.

"Matt, you were thrown so violently from the ATV that the emergency switch tethered to your wrist left a burn, just like Vlad. And the foot, the foot— just got ripped off in the middle of the accident."

Gus knew where he was headed now, "But you weren't supposed to be doing any of that. So you had to cover it up or risk loosing your contract, and that's worth millions."

Shawn was impressed, "Smallpox, wrapping up the wrap up. Putting a bow on it."

"The pox may be small but—" Gus was cut off by Matt. "Yeah, that's really, really very impressive guys. Too bad we already dug ourselves so deep we can't let you tell anyone about it."

That's not good. He had to get them out of this, had to get Gus out of this. "Then again, I could be dead wrong. I mean I just heard it all from a locker, what the hell does it know. Seriously, here's what I think we should do guys. Gus- run."

Shawn flipped the table, praying to all that was holy that Gus had started running. As long as Gus was safe, it didn't matter what happened to him. He was always getting Gus into trouble, ever since they were young. But now that Psych opened, it seemed like Gus' life was being put in danger on a regular basis through no fault of his own. Psych was Shawn's idea, his little warped way of making his father proud—using the gifts that were ingrained upon him since he was born. Shawn knew the ugly side of the police force, his father had prepared him. Gus wasn't prepared. Gus got sick every time he saw a dead body, every time he saw blood, every time he saw a gun….

Yes, Shawn could deal with whatever happened to him, but not Gus. Gus was his best friend; he would not let anything happen to him.

Shawn started running. There was no way in hell he would outrun Matt, Vince, and Drew. They were professional athletes and he was a fake psychic detective. Sure, he was in shape and all, but he was definitely not on the same level as these guys. Oh boy, he was really starting to regret that pineapple smoothie from earlier today….

Where were they? Shawn started to slow down. He had been running for a couple of minutes, and there was no one in sight. He stopped altogether. At least Gus had gotten away, unless….. There was no one in sight; they could have gotten to Gus!

At that thought, Shawn booked it. He was running faster than he ever had in his life. He could hear panting now, someone was out of breath. He could also hear an odd shuffling of a run—Gus! Gus was safe for now. As Shawn turned the corner, his suspicions were confirmed. There was Gus, trying his best to run fast.

"Gus!"

"Shawn! Where---have---you---been?!" Gus never was one for running long distances.

Shawn was about to vocalize his opinion on Gus' endurance, when he heard something. "Gus, be quiet!" He warned.

Gus stopped, "Shawn?"

"Gus shhh!!"

"What's going on Shawn?" Gus was starting to get freaked out…well more freaked out then he already was. Then he heard it too.

He heard the pounding of three very angry, very big, very strong football players.

Shawn turned to Gus, "Listen to me, see that ramp on your right. Go up it, make three lefts and get out of here. Call Jules and Lassie; tell them what's going on. Quick hurry."

Gus looked torn, "What about you? I can't leave you here alone to face them."

Shawn smiled, "Gus, I'm faster than you. And don't worry—I have a plan." With that, Shawn started running, making as much noise as possible to attract the attention of three very angry, very big, very strong football players.

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Then Gus ran like he never ran before. He was never a sports kind of guy, opting more for the spirit aspect of it all. And seriously, he was almost the spelling-bee champion; everyone knew those guys did not have an athletic future!

Ten minutes later, he was outside the stadium and on his cell phone.

Juliet answered on the third ring, "Hello? Gus?"

"Jul…liet….Shawn…players……danger….." Gus was so out of breath he could barely relay the message.

"What about Shawn?" Juliet sounded worried. Gus knew she would. I mean, someone would have to be blind not to notice the attraction between the junior detective and the SBPD psychic.

"Matt, Vince, Drew…….accident….covered it up….chasing Shawn now….hurry!" Gus paused, "We're at the stadium."

"We'll be there in five minutes"

Gus only hoped Shawn could just wait five minutes.

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Shawn didn't really know what he was doing. Well, yes, he technically did know what he was doing. He had just revealed to three football players that the gig was up. Unfortunately they did not agree, and had promptly begun devising a plan to get rid of the psychic and his best friend. That's where he was now, currently running from three very angry, very big, very strong football players.

So he knew what he was doing, not so sure on the why. Yes, he knew he had to get Gus out of danger. But why he didn't wait for the police to make the big reveal….he really needs to start planning ahead when confronting dangerous criminals.

Well, in his defense, he had no intention of confronting them tonight. That was for sure. Actually, if all had gone according to plan, he would have had police back up, so he really wasn't a complete idiot. Well that was debatable.

Shawn was currently running, screaming, making as much noise as possible in order to attract said dangerous criminals. Oh, and did he mention the criminals were three very angry, very big, very strong football players?

Okay, so maybe he was a complete idiot, but at least this gave Gus a way out. Hopefully Gus had gotten out and Jules and Lassie were on their way now. Maybe Shawn could come out of this unscathed.

At that moment, he felt something slam into him, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground. Shawn's head made a disturbing *crack* sound when it connected with the floor.

So much for unscathed. Vince had tackled him from the side.

"Good work man, now let's finish this thing," Shawn heard Matt say. Shawn couldn't focus; he had stars in his eyes, and some annoying warm sticky liquid dripping down his neck.

Unfortunately, Shawn had never been the quiet type. "Ow man, what was that for. A simple—HEY! would have sufficed!" He felt himself being roughly pulled to his feet.

"You think this is funny psychic, do you?!" Oh yes, he had pegged Matt as impatient, and Shawn had just pulled on his last nerve.

Shawn smiled up at him, "Well it all depends on your sense of humor I suppose, I have always been a fan of Bob Newhart-" He was abruptly cut off by a punch to his face.

"Really man—was that at all necessary? I mean, I know not everyone enjoyed his style, but those one-sided telephone conversations, he really made you think someone was on the other—" Another punch to the face.

Matt had no patience for any of his antics today, "You really don't know when to shut up do you!"

Only then did Shawn notice Matt was not the one holding him up, Vince was. Drew was behind Matt, staying awfully quiet.

"Come on Matt, just hurry this up. This guy's bleeding on me." So Vince wasn't a fan of blood.

"No, we need to teach him a lesson first!" Seriously, what did he do to this Matt guy?

"A lesson? Should I have a pen and paper? I really wasn't prepared. And I don't want you to waste your time it's not like I'm going to retain anything after—" Shawn was cut off by a punch to the gut.

Vince dropped the psychic and added a kick of his own to him.

Drew was still behind Matt, "Come on guys, none of this was supposed to happen. It was an accident, I'm sure if we just explained—"

Matt looked at him, "We've already gone too far. We covered up Vlad's death, and now have attacked one of their own. Face it Drew, we're not getting out of this now!"

"Don't listen to them Drew", Shawn opened his eyes, "You never wanted any of this to happen. You were just going out with your friends. It wasn't your fault—it was all Matt's idea. You just wanted to call an ambulance."

"SHUT UP!" Matt kicked him again, that guy really needed to work on his temper.

"You were never comfortable with any of it. And tying it to the Russians? Really—you knew that was a bad idea. Just making it worse. If you had gone to the cops like you wanted—" Another kick.

"Hold him up Vince!"

Shawn felt himself being lifted off the ground—the world was spinning.

"You knew from the beginning this was all going to spiral out of—"

Another punch by Matt, and another, and another.

Matt looked up, "Get over here Drew! You're in this just as much as we are. TEACH HIM A LESSON!"

Drew seemed torn. Vince spoke up, "Just come over here and let's end this thing. We're all going to loose our contracts anyway. And it's all Emilio's—Shawn's fault! Why shouldn't we vent out some frustration!"

Drew shook his head, "I can't guys, this has gone on long enough. You do what you want, I'm out." And with that he turned and walked away—Shawn's one hope of getting out of this leaving before his very eyes.

This was soooo not good.

"What are we going to do Matt?" Vince was really worried now.

"Nothing, we'll deal with him later. He has just as much to loose as us, and he's just as involved. He won't do anything stupid." Matt seemed confident of this.

Shawn knew he was screwed, but at least Gus was safe. Gus was probably out by now, away from the crazy football players. Shawn was having trouble focusing, his head was swimming. He had tunnel vision, and his last thought before succumbing to the darkness was, "Since football didn't work out, he should take up boxing—this guy can throw one hell of a punch."

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Drew didn't know what to do. He knew he lost it all, but he couldn't bring himself to kill that psychic. He wasn't that bad of a guy. Sure, his mouth would get him in trouble, but that didn't warrant him murdered. Drew just didn't know what to do.

Then he remembered. There was another guy—what was his name? Gus? He was pretty sure he heard him being called Gus. So where was he?

Drew was just walking around. He really didn't want to hurt this Gus guy anymore than he wanted to hurt the psychic. Hopefully he got out. That's it—he got out!

Drew knew what he wanted to do now.

Now, one would think when he heard the sirens, he would be terrified. But Drew wasn't. He was resigned, he already lost his contract, but maybe he could stop Matt and Vince before the psychic lost his life. He started running toward the noise.

He saw the red and blue flashing lights, he saw the pretty Detective and he saw GUS! He ran towards them with his hands up.

"Gus, you gotta go help your friend. I think they're going to kill him", Drew warned.

Gus, if possible, paled. Juliet stepped in, "Shawn?! Where is he!"

"Not so fast O'Hara", Lassiter said turning towards Drew, "You are being arrested for the murder of Vlad—"

Drew sighed, "I know, I know. And I'll go willingly, but first you have to trust me. That psychic guy is in serious danger. I think they're going to kill him. You have to follow me, I know where they are!"

Lassiter looked at O'Hara, and nodded to Drew, "But you try anything funny, and you get a hole in you."

Drew just started running. He knew where to take the detectives—he only hoped he wasn't too late. Lassiter called back, "Guster, you stay here." Gus looked like he was going to object, until Juliet yelled, "Call Henry!"

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Juliet was worried. Shawn always seemed to get himself in tricky situations, but he always got himself out of them. Somehow, she didn't think Shawn could get out of this one. From what Gus told her, these three had everything to loose and had no qualms murdering Shawn. She just prayed they weren't too late.

Lassiter would never admit it, but he was worried. Sure, he had envisioned himself murdering Spencer, many times actually, but—as much as he hated to admit it—Shawn was one of their own. So he didn't have a badge, a real badge, that junky laminated one from O'Hara didn't count, Shawn was a more valuable member of the force then most of the actual officers. Maybe Shawn was right….maybe he should have gotten a gun. It would certainly help in situations like these.

Drew didn't know what to think. He knew life as he knew it was over, and he was turning in his friends but, dammit, they were killing an innocent guy! He went along with Vlad's cover-up because there was nothing any of them could do; he was dead because of the crash. But this…this was downright murder. And he was no murderer. They were getting closer; Drew could hear them beating the snot out of that guy. And as they turned the corner, he could literally smell the blood.

"FREEZE SBPD!" Lassiter yelled gun drawn. His mind was blank, he had to do his job, he couldn't look at the bloody pulp on the floor, couldn't realize that mass was Spencer….

Vince put his hands up, but Matt let out a roar and charged at the detectives. Lassiter didn't think twice about putting two slugs in him, in the leg though. This guy was not getting the easy out.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." Lassiter quickly booked the three criminals, and then turned his attention to Spencer.

Juliet was kneeling by him with tears in her eyes, "Oh Shawn." Lassiter turned to an officer, "Get paramedics up here NOW!" Then he got closer. Spencer did not look good. His jersey was covered in blood as was his face. His left arm stuck out at an awkward angle, and his breathing was labored. At least he was breathing; Lassiter could hear the quick labored breaths now. Only thing, Shawn was unconscious.

"Oh sweet justice, what have you gotten into now Spencer…" Lassiter put his hand on Juliet's back. Just then the paramedics came and loaded Shawn up. Lassiter pulled Juliet away so the medics could do their job. He had bigger problems to deal with right now. He had three very angry, very big, very strong football players to prosecute.

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…..Beep……Beep……Beep…..Beep…..

Not now, and he was having the most amazing dream. He and Juliet had finally admitted their attraction and had just gone back to his place…..Stupid alarm!

Wait a minute; his alarm played _Shoop Shoop Diddy Wop Cumma Cumma Wang Dang _by Monte Video and the Cassettes. Shawn's eyes popped open, and shut immediately. Bright lights, way to clean white room, annoying incessant beeping, oh no…..he was in the hospital.

Shawn moved around a bit, trying to access the damage. He took a deep, painful breath—okay some cracked ribs. He tried to move his arm and found it immobile—okay, broken left arm. Not too too bad. He had had worse. Wonder if he'll be able to convince the doctors to let him sign out….

Shawn sighed and slowly opened his eyes again, being careful with the light. He took a good look around his room. It was a private room, too clean for his liking, and smelled strongly of antiseptic. He saw some pineapples throughout the room, along with get well cards, Henry asleep in the chair in the corner, a beautiful view from the window—wait back track. Henry asleep in the chair in the corner? Oh no, he was sure going to get it now.

Shawn sighed, well if Henry was here it means that introducing him to Sammy had worked and his father was no longer mad at him. Just as he realized this, Henry stretched and let out a huge yawn, eyes popping open.

"Creepy dad, very _Audition _of you…"

"I see you're awake" Henry pointed out the obvious. "As are you", Shawn just stared back at his father. Henry sighed, "So kid, you gonna tell me why you did it?"

Shawn swallowed; he was expecting a lecture from his father, not this calm rapport. Instead of answering, he needed to know "Is Gus okay?" Henry sighed, "Gus is just fine, you however have a severe concussion, three broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken arm, more contusions than one could count….what were you thinking Shawn?!"

Ahh—here was the Henry he knew and…was used to. Shawn started to get defensive, "I had to make sure Gus was safe. We had no intention of confronting Matt, Vince and Drew, but we couldn't really help it. They were waiting for us, and they were going to kill us. You always told me about the special bond you have with your partner, and how their safety becomes a priority for you. Well Gus isn't just my partner, he's my best friend and I did what I thought was necessary to insure Gus was safe."

Henry just looked at him, "You done?" "I don't know, that depends you got a lecture for me to hear?" Shawn did not need this right now. Henry sighed, "Shawn just because I get agitated with you doesn't mean I'm going to lecture you. Do I think it was stupid to have three very angry, very big, very strong football players chase you? Of course! But…I can understand why you did it."

Shawn was shocked, his father wasn't ridiculing him? "The fact of the matter is… you did good kid and I'm proud of you. I just wish that you could be a bit more careful when apprehending criminals. I don't want the next time I get a frantic phone call from Gus to be hearing that you're dead." Henry looked down.

Shawn was flabbergasted; he knew how hard it was for Henry to say all that. The Spencer's were never really expressive about emotions. "Don't worry dad that phone call will never come."

Henry got a little angry, "You don't know that Shawn! If you keep throwing yourself into these dangerous situations you're going to end up getting yourself killed! I know you think you're indestructible but you're not Shawn. You are very very brittle. One day you're going to realize your limitations, and I just hope that day won't be your last!"

"Dad, I know my limitations. But I also know what and who is important. If there's one thing you taught me it's to do what I think is best and follow my gut. You gave me all the tools I need to go out in the world, and a few extraneous ones. And you know as well as I do I'm not going to stop being who I am now. I'll be careful, yes, but I'll be the same." Shawn paused, he needed to lighten the mood, "Don't worry dad, I'll be around for many years to come—not doing any of those little chores you ask me to."

Henry smiled a bit at that, "That reminds me Shawn, you still need to clean up the attic…."


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